The Irish standard., 1887-10-29


bosom. The truth dawned upon him.
He knew it all now. AS if by magic
all the love of that true heart was re-
vealed to him in an instant. And his
own heart opened, and love rushed
into it in such flood, that he could
scarcely restrain the impulse he felt to
clasp the unconscious little maiden to
his breast, as a mother might child
whom she suddenly discovers to be her
own. He moved the hair from her
cheek, and was STOPPING down to press
his lips to it, but Kate kept him back.
Don't, said she, unless
He understood her look, and said:
lido, Kate
Kate bent glad, fond look On little
Fanny's face, and kissed her herself.
Hold her., said she, till / get some
water And she laid little Fanny's
head against the breast which she
hoped would be it's pillow for evermore
in this world, and perhaps in the next
too. All this happened in less than a
minute. She dipped her handkerchief
| among the water-cresses n the stream
that crept under the whitethorn hedge,
and sprlnkled Fanny's face. After a
little while Fanny heaved a deep sigh,
and opened her eyes. On seeing the
| blood rush to her face. and crimson
even her neck, Kate tock her from
away.
| What q little fool you are,' said
Kate, beginning to close Fanny's dress,
which she had loosened to give her air.
! Is he hurt, Kate?' ...
| No: can you not hear him running
after his horse through the trees?'
| But Fanny would not look up for the
| world; she felt she had betrayed her.
self. And oh, what would she not give
to be a hundred miles away at that
moment!
Were you not frightened at all,
Kate?' she asked
I was, indeed, but then I'm not a
little coward like YOU
Fanny looked timidly at her, and
Kate was almost tempted to tell her
what she had just discovered; but the
fear Of mistake that might make mat
ters worse, kept her silent.
Come said she, here is Brian
Brian delayed at the gate to put on
the stirrup; but instead of waiting as
usual to descend the hill with her
arm in bis, Fanny hurried away as if
she had quite forgotten him.
AS Brian followed them slowly
towards the house, all unpleasant
doubt got into his mind, Fanny was
their guest: he thought, and evidently
her father OF her aunt had net the re-
mOtest suspicion that she cherished 8
warmer feeling than friendship for
him. Then her father was rich. and
his favoring MI. MS suit showed that
he was ambitious too. She was young
and inexperienced, and came among
them as his sisters friend, all these
things considered, would it be honor
able for him to speak to Fanny O'Gor~
man of love? He longed to held her to
his heart, and ask her to be his-his
own sweet wife-for evermore. But
after due reflection he felt it would be
wrong. With smile Of mingled Bit
terness and sadness, he said to himself:
III nust not beat Least not now,
There appears to be fatality hanging
over me-
We are not pleased with MIR. Brian
Purcell. His honorable scruples would
have been all very we'll, If Fanny
O'Gorman's happiness was not con-
cerned. But here is our good friend,
Father Paul, driving up the avenue, and
in him we put our trust;
The good priest was much troubled
for his friends at Ballycorrig, who saw
The notice to quit looming in the in
stance. This made him more anxious
to see his niece married to Brian Pur-
cell. Her father, he knew, would then
get them over all ditiiculties,--for what
cannot money dof Brian's mother was
Father O'Gorman's idol. She did such
a world. of good among the poor, and
did it so quietly, without making al
noise about it. And her son inherited
her goodness, Therefore he was the !!
man for his dear little Fanny.
But seeing them all so gloomy, !
Father Paul said to himself one day:
We'll, we'll, this will never do. Wen !
have no falling in love at this rate
What's this Tom Moore says?
Even though to smiles it may first owe it's
birth,
All the soul Of it's sweetness is drawn out by
lears,'
Faith, it must be born first, at any
rate. Leave the soul Of its sweetness
for some other time. But how are we to !
get the 'smiles'?'
L have it, exclaimed Father Paul, as